


Poetry in Emotion

by Isola_Caramella



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-21 02:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11934645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isola_Caramella/pseuds/Isola_Caramella
Summary: Brienne learns the universal college code of door sock.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [openmouthwideeye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/openmouthwideeye/gifts).



> This is a little ficlet that came to me sometime back based on the Merriam Webster word of the day (smaragdine). 
> 
> Openmouthwideeye gave me this prompt:
> 
> Helpless as his smaragdine orbs dance with secret amusement" aka Brienne gets roped into Poetry 201 with creepy Prof Baelish.
> 
> And it's been sitting in box forever until I saw another prompt for "My roommate’s boyfriend is staying over so can I please sleep on your floor"
> 
> And this thing was done. I am terrible at poetry so forgive my attempts :)
> 
> Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own and a girl owns nothing.

Jaime growled into his pillow as the knocking refused to stop, it had to be after midnight and he had a midterm with Professor Baelish at seven. He'd spent half the night trying to find a word to rhyme with smaragdine and the other half proofreading his midterm essay on _The Dornishman’s Wife_. Leave it up to creepy Baelish to have their midterm on yet another poem about going down on a woman. When he'd gone into great detail about the symbolism behind the _Bear and the Maiden Fair_ , half the lecture hall had broken out into coughing fits until Brienne had innocently asked about the change in the maid’s disposition from one stanza to the next and everyone in the hall except Baelish had laughed in earnest then. Jaime almost felt guilty at the memory. Brienne had looked close to dying of asphyxiation as Baelish explained in great detail why the maid had squealed and kicked and sighed for her bear. Jaime had almost felt bad, almost.

“Alright for fuck’s sake! I'm coming,” He yelled into the dark room, stalking to the door to punch whatever freshman needed a surrogate mother at 12:45. “What do you…”

Big blue eyes stopped his train of thought, his body responding to Brienne's nearness like a well trained dog. His muscles tightening as her eyes looked down the hallway to see a few people peeking their heads out to investigate what the commotion was.

“Hi, can I come in?” Brienne asked, gripping the strap of her old navy backpack until her knuckles were whiter than usual.

Jaime stepped back to let her in, locking the door behind him as Brienne dropped her backpack next to his desk, slumping dejectedly into the chair. He knew better than to push her but he wouldn't be Jaime Lannister if he didn't.

“What happened? Finally figured out the true meaning of the _Dornishman’s Wife_?”

The responding scowl only made him smile, blue wild fire sparking out to burn him to ashes where he stood.

“No. Margaery needs our room to herself tonight. I came back from the library and she was, busy.” Brienne said delicately. The blush creeping up her wide neck letting Jaime just how busy Margaery Tyrell was.

“Didn't she put a sock on the door to warn you?” Jaime asked, pulling her out of the chair and onto his too small extra long twin bed. Ignoring her protests until he'd tugged her shoes off, grateful that it was spring and she was wearing shorts and her KLU Athletics long sleeve top.

“How does everyone know that except for me?” Brienne sputtered, fitting herself into the crook of his arm as they settled under the covers. How Brienne thought crawling into his bed was platonic baffled him more than Tyrion’s ability to drink enough to drown a whale.

“It's because you're a innocent maid, unused to the wickedness of us mere mortals. You should have learned that freshman year.” He felt the heat of her blush on her neck, closing his eyes to go back to sleep and clear his head for the morning.

Jaime woke up alarmed and aroused, he'd been dreaming of Brienne in his own private version of the _Bear and the Maiden Fair_. Sweat had pooled in his lower back and if he closed his eyes tight enough he could make out the taste his mind conjured up, salt, faint chlorine and something uniquely Brienne. It was the taste of her neck right before she woke up each time they'd fallen asleep unexpectedly on his bed. His fingers flexed around something warm and soft, squeezing again before realizing it was the small mound attached to Brienne's chest occupying his hand perfectly. Against his baser instincts Jaime smoothed his hand back to the broad expanse of her waist, longing to explore every freckle that covered her skin.

His bed was too small to turn on his back properly, barely wide enough for him alone, impossible with Brienne molded perfectly into his body. The clock glowed 3:37 as he thought of cats, the possibility of dragons returning to Westeros, the way creepy Baelish managed to not get fired even when he chose the most sexually explicit poetry known to man under the guise of historical importance to modern culture.

“Jaime?” Brienne's sleep roughened voice roused him from his head, fine hairs tickling his nose as she turned in his arms. “Why are you awake?”

“I need to rhyme smaragdine.” He evaded skillfully, “the only thing I've managed is, dancing eyes of smaragdine, watched his beloved over bread and wine. Nothing else, and it's Baelish so I need a minimum of one sexual reference to guarantee a C when he chooses which paper to jerk off to.”

Brienne groaned, shaking her head and pinching his arm lightly. The disapproval evident even in the dark.

“Lets hear your masterpiece then lady bard of Tarth.” Jaime joked, pulling her into him, his nose pressed against her twice broken one, he felt the hiccup in her breathing as his lips hovered over hers.

“I'm only in this stupid class because you conned me into it. Poetry 201 is a crock and so is Baelish. You're not picking our electives next semester.”

“It's the easiest A you'll ever earn, just wear shorts and sit where Baelish can eye your legs discreetly.” Jaime teased as he ran a finger down her thigh, savoring the twitching muscles of her powerful legs. “Now, tell me your poem so I can see if I need more work.”

Jaime waited patiently, trying to rush Brienne into doing something that made her uncomfortable was the fastest way for her to shut down, years of heavy walls he'd worked to climb over thrown back up in a single blink of her pale lashes.

“ _In swimming, blushing, and terror she was fluent. Hiding her love had always been prudent, for in love she had fallen, helpless as his smaragdine orbs dance with secret amusement, one word from his lips, would prove her to be a most willing student_.”

He felt delirious as he grabbed the back of Brienne's head to seal her mouth to his, his dream of bears, maidens and honey crashing into him all over again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic prompt: OR "We’re studying in the library and there are two people very obviously fucking in the stacks and we keep sharing embarrassed glances" JB
> 
> It worked in this world so I left it. Hope this hits the mark.

The basement of the library was supposed to be the best place to study before finals, especially at night. The muffled grunts coming from the private study room were enough to throw Jaime's train of thought far away from the paper for creepy Baelish. Trying to write about _When Willum's Wife Was Wet_ across from Brienne had been hard enough, listening to furniture move and groaning made it impossible.

Brienne looked up at him red-faced when something fell over, followed by a loud sucking sound. Jaime glanced back at her and tried to shrug it off, going back to his paper on how double entendres bolstered meaning to poetic works. His paragraph on euphemisms was undergoing its third erasure when a high pitched squeal was swiftly covered. This time it was him awkwardly looking over at Brienne.

Jaime mouthed sorry over the continued thumping, big blue eyes averted from him. He tapped her foot to gain Brienne's attention and motioned with his head towards the door. They could study in his dorm, everyone would be out drinking or stuck in a building studying just like them, hoping the quiet would impart months worth of syllabus material they barely bothered glanced at. Brienne shook her head no in response, staring resolutely back at her laptop screen.

The varying shades of pink and red that played over Brienne’s skin entertained Jaime until they heard the door of the study room open and shut, Bronn’s head visible as he led someone up the steps. Jaime laughed until Brienne threw a pen across the table, her scowl a non verbal request to shut up.

“Sorry,” Jaime wheezed as he sat back up, “that was Bronn. He really did it.”

“Did what?” Brienne asked, her teeth chewing one corner of her bottom lip.

“He completed the trifecta. It's not even senior year yet.” Jaime responded in awe, trying to remember how much gold dragons a completed trifecta netted the first one to finish all three activities.

“What trifecta?”

“Gods, what were you doing freshman year? The big three?” 

“Watching TV in my dorm room to avoid people like you.” Brienne answered, the scowl returning to the middle of her forehead. 

“Ouch.” Jaime thought it best to forget their less than friendly beginnings, content to pretend freshman year had happened to two other people. Brienne apparently didn't share that thought. “The KLU Trifecta of debauchery goes like this my innocent one, peeing on the statue of King Jaehaerys I Targaryen in the quad, streaking across campus the night before finals and sex in Luwin library.”

“Oh, well that's, special. That explains all of the screaming the night before finals every year. Mystery solved.”

They settled back into writing and studying, Jaime revised almost every word on his paper for Baelish before being satisfied. His eyes and back burned equally as they packed up and finally trudged out of the library and across campus back to his dorm room. He had lost Brienne to whatever was knocking around in her brain in the stacks, the wrinkle in her brow and her fleeting glimpses at him the only indication that those thoughts centered on him and not finals.

His cramped twin bed made him long for off campus housing and the three months that separated them. An apartment that was Tywin approved with a Dothraki king bed was somewhere out there with his name on it, senior year freedom was so close. Although he had a soft spot for his bed and the hours spent in it with Brienne, a bigger bed would take away his excuse to sleep completely wrapped around her.

“Jaime?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you, are you planning on finishing the trifecta?” Brienne stammered, her long fingers curling and uncurling around his fist.

“Two out of three is noteworthy. I can live with that, I have to pay Bronn his dragons earlier than expected. Bastard.”

Jaime kissed the base of her neck, darting his tongue out just enough to make her shiver against him. Teasing her mercilessly was his third favorite Brienne related activity and now he had the bonus option of his using his hands and tongue. Jaime could read her like a book, heard the questions she couldn't voice as they groped each other in the dark of his room. What they were building was real and good, whether Brienne decided to have sex with him tonight, next month or next year. He prayed to the Seven, it fell somewhere in between next month and next year.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was longer than a drabble and gave me something to do while Irma screamed outside. Hope it's enjoyable.
> 
> Also the ¥ looked like a dragon with its mouth open so it's my symbol for Westerosi currency XD

Genna Lannister watched the tall, muscled girl try to corral all of the children flitting from car to car. Tywin owed her, more than he normally did, for dragging her away from work to spy on Jaime's girlfriend. She saw nothing remotely special or eye catching, the short cropped bleached blonde hair was out of fashion, the faded clothes, even if for a car washing fundraiser, were something out of a big box department store and the horsey teeth should have meet a qualified orthodontist years ago. Not to mention the absolute necessity of a precise plastic surgeon for the nose stuck crookedly in the middle of the poor child’s face.

The Flea Bottom Community Center was nowhere anyone trying to fortune hunt would work, girls working for an entry into leisure living chose more seemingly glamorous careers, actress, television reporter, flight attendant, fine dining waitress or model, a career with excess free time and valuable face time with men of means. If they picked humanitarian endeavors it included thousand dragon dinners and charity galas, not ten dragon car washes with hand written signs. Genna sighed as she made her way towards the epicenter of Tywin’s current cause of restlessness. Somehow her brothers had convinced themselves her descent into excess weight made her innocuous to outsiders. This would so much easier if the girl worked at the Golden Sword Tower, Genna could watch surreptitiously and get a good meal. Instead, sweat gathered on her upper lip and in her décolletage, and her red sports car was getting a subpar scrub from inexperienced eight year olds.

“Steffon, please try not to throw water on anyone.” The giant blonde admonished a young mischievous sprite running away from her, continuing to spray anyone in his path, paying no heed to the less than stern rebuke.

“Devilish little beasts at that age I'm afraid. They do it for the pure thrill of hearing you say no.” Genna said, eyeing the matching pale blonde eyebrows and reassessing her critique of the out of fashion hair.

“He does it because his father is my boss and he thinks he'll get away with it.” Blue eyes the like Genna has never seen outside of the most beautiful waters stop her feet’s progress.

“My dear girl, you have the most incredible eyes I've ever seen. Absolutely astonishing.” The need to pull her face closer and peer into the world beyond make Genna step back, eyeing the instantaneous flush coloring the unfortunate freckled skin. “Are you a bastard Targaryen by chance?”

“What? No.” She protested, looking around to make sure her charges were still blissfully unsullied by vulgar words. How in the Seven Hells she could be Jaime's girlfriend and shocked by a simple utterance of bastard was questionable.

“You have the pale blonde hair and though not violet, those eyes are only a few steps away from Valyria.” In truth, they did her no favors. The eyes were pretty and her shorts clad legs were a definite asset, the mouth could be attractive enough with a swipe of tinted gloss. “Now what is this dismal little car wash for?”

“We’re raising money for the end of summer trips for the younger children and campus tours for the older children.”

“And how much do you need for this endeavor?”

“We have a grant and some of the parents are paying what they can, this is only to help.”

“What is your name child?”

“Brienne.”

“Brienne,” Brienne Lannister had a pleasing enough ring to it Genna decided, “the question I asked was not how much you had my dear girl, but how much you needed.”

“¥100,000 for the older children and ¥20,000 for the younger ones.” Brienne sighed, almost dejectedly. Blue eyes scanning all of the children who would see nothing for all of their hard work if the best idea for fundraising was a car wash.

“And how much have you raised today?”

“¥536.”

As Genna thought, this was on the fast track to nowhere. The girl had no brain in her head if she couldn't even bother to impress upon Jaime to get Casterly Holdings to give them a corporate donation. Brienne drifted away to her charges again, talking to fellow counselors along the way. Genna smirked as she thought of just how Tywin would pay her back.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read Pun Intended, it's set in the same universe but you don't need to read one to read the other.


End file.
